“Yes. First dates only. One at a time.”
“That seems reasonable.” I tilt my head, considering. “Unlucky, though. That’s a lot of at-bats without a single run on the board.”
Tenny laughs, the tension instantly dropping from his shoulders. Then he shoots me a pointed look, waiting.
I shift in my seat, tucking up my legs until I’m facing him. “Are you telling me that you’ve just had a long series of bad first dates?”
“Not exactly, but mostly.” His hands flex on the steering wheel as he appears to war with himself. Finally, Tenny releases a reserved sigh. “In baseball, you’re taught to not give up, to keep swinging. Even if you strike out, it’s important to keep your head up and try again. I know some people close themselves off after heartbreak, but I just kept putting myself out there. I didn’t realize what therealproblem was until recently. That’s actually why I’ve been listening to…”
Tenny keeps talking, but his words drop out of my consciousness once I see the sign of the complex we’ve just turned into—Desert Break Surf.
My neck snaps as I look at the almost empty parking lot and the business whose flood lights are very much on. Is this what Tenny meant byour next adventure? It can’t be, right? Butrenting a surf park for just the two of us seems right up Tenny’s alley. The mouth-watering meal I thoroughly enjoyed feels like burning acid crawling back up my throat.
One incessant thought repeats as quickly as my hammering heartbeat.
I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
The air feels tight in my lungs, and all I can hear is the pounding rush of the water as it slams me into the sand, pummeling me twice. I don’t even register that we’ve stopped moving or that Tenny is talking to me until his fingers slide over where mine are gripping the fabric of my dress.
“Alex.” His concerned gaze jumps all over my face. “What—”
“Can we leave?” I don’t even recognize my high, tight voice.
“Of course.” He lets go of my fingers to shift into reverse, whipping the truck around, and practically speeding out of the parking lot.
Tenny drives in silence, allowing me to get my erratic breathing under control. My head flops back against the headrest as I close my eyes. Unwanted memories play on the backs of my eyelids until Tenny pulls the truck into a spot at the hotel parking lot.
“Alex, I’m really sorr—”
“No.” My eyes fly open. “Don’t apologize,” I tell him, finally gathering enough courage to meet his gaze. “I should be apologizing for ruining your plans.”
A muscle in his neck jumps. “To heck with my plans. All I care about is you.” He softens his tone. “Are you okay?”
The impulse to cry is so ridiculous, but all I can think isI remember this from college.I remember how Tenny’s brows drew together until twin lines of concern creased between them, how his voice got low and compassionate.
I exhale a long, slow breath. It’s time to drop any pretenses that we haven’t met before.
“I don’t surf anymore.”
Something in his expression changes with the wordanymore, but his gaze remains gentle.
“I remember you,” I murmur, a slight flush warming my cheeks.
His mouth quirks. “I really thought we were going to keep pretending we didn’t know each other until we ended up fake married.”
A laugh pulls from deep in my belly. “We’re supposed to be fake breaking up in a few weeks.”
“We’ll see.” Tenny’s confident smile nearly knocks the wind out of me, so naturally, I glare at him.
His gaze softens as he reaches over the center console to collect my hand in his. “Why don’t you surf anymore?”
I focus on our joined hands, finding it easier to speak that way. “That summer. I was preparing for Olympic trials, and I had an accident—a really bad one. The recovery was long, and I just couldn’t bring myself to get back into the water afterward.”
A beat passes before I lift my chin.
“I’m sorry, Alex. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”
I shrug, likeno big deal. “That’s why I never contacted you. I was trying to piece my life back together. And then…”
